


Dizzy Dreamer and His Bleeding Little Blue Boy

by gayunsolved



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Hospitals, M/M, No seriously it's kinda fucked up and the author is deeply sorry, Recovery, Suicide Attempt, The author's writing style is a whole yikes, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 23:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayunsolved/pseuds/gayunsolved
Summary: “Mark, I’m sorry, I hate goodbyes.” “Then don’t say goodbye. You don’t have to.” The line went blank. Mark couldn’t begin to imagine what the world would be like without the colour blue.





	Dizzy Dreamer and His Bleeding Little Blue Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Caraphernelia by Pierce the Veil
> 
> Warning-if you are triggered or disturbed by suicide, hospitals, etc, don't read this please.
> 
> I, the author, have been through a whole lot so this is very intense. I hope you...enjoy?

Angelic didn’t seem to be quite the right word to describe Ethan where he lay, unconscious on the hospital bed. His eyelashes, fused together with tears unshed, cast morosely beautiful shadows on his pale cheeks. Blood, half dry, decorated the corners of the mouth that Tyler had kissed so many times. His fragile form was wrapped in clean parchment coloured sheets, dirtied only by the crushing realization of mortality hitting Tyler as he stood by the bed. Hospitals meant sickness, death, pain, Tyler knew that. He despised the quiet, desolately immaculate halls, malodorous with medical precision. Hospitals hurt, Tyler knew, but never like this. Ethan was still, the room was silent safe the minute sounds of monitors. Tyler averted his eyes from the IV tubes buried like old bones in Ethan’s unstirring arms. The stitches were in Ethan’s arms, but Tyler felt the needles in every breath he struggled to release. Abruptly overcome with ineffable emotion, Tyler stumbled back to sit in the wooden chair meant for family visiting their sick. He refused to let himself fall apart, resolute to be strong for Ethan when he needed it. And yet Tyler, the one who was supposed to be stone faced and of few words, couldn’t hold himself together, succumbing to the calamitous fear and despair lacing its way rapidly through his veins. For some unfathomable hours, Tyler remained there, slumped and distraught, wholly lost without his Ethan. Doctors drifted in and out, cleaning Ethan’s bedpan and replacing IVs, silently caring for the blue angel in the bed. None dared disturb the gentle giant sobbing in the corner. None would have known how.   
Sunrise seeped into the room, staining the linoleum tiles shades of amber and garnet and finding Tyler still wilted beside the bed, breathing abated by sleep. His hair was mussed, long limbs splayed and face slack with exhaustion. As Ethan began to regain consciousness, the first thing he became aware of was the breathing of the other man. He moved to rub his eyes to clear the tears and sleep, only to be impeded by the IVs and restraints binding his arms to the bed. “Ty?” Ethan’s voice, normally vibrant, escaped his parched mouth as only a fraction of a whisper. His head was instantly filled with shattered moments from the night before, fragmented visions of bloody razors and screaming for Tyler. These broken glass memories were tumbled into sea glass by a precipitous flood of acidic guilt. “Tyler,” Ethan tried again, “Tyler?” His boyfriend shifted but did not wake. Desperate to be heard, Ethan wrenched his arm out of the fabric restraint holding it, setting off an alarm, causing doctors to rush into the room. They quickly restrained the bedridden man once more, fussing and reprimanding him. One of the doctors, a kind woman with chestnut eyes, helped him to drink water. “How are you feeling?” she inquired, her voice gentle. When Ethan grimaced, she continued. “You had quite a rough night last night, young man. Although you seem to have a visitor. I’ll go get your breakfast, and you can speak to him if he wakes up.” With a crooked smile, she bustled out of the room, leaving Ethan and Tyler alone. 

“Tyler,” Ethan repeated, his voice now resembling a hoarse version of his normal self. Tyler woke with a start, hitting his head against the wall in his haste to stand. “Ethan, oh my god, Ethan, you’re okay, holy fuck, Ethan…” Tyler trailed off, seeing the pain bleeding into Ethan’s eyes. “Tyler, I love you.”  
“I love you too, Ethan. I’m so glad you’re okay.”  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”  
“Ethan.”  
“I know.”  
“I can’t live without you.”   
“I know.”   
“I want to save you, but I don’t know how.”  
Ethan laughed, the familiar sound seeping into Tyler’s cold bones and thawing him.   
“They have me on suicide watch, I think I’m safe.”   
“You know what I mean, Ethan. I want to spend every single second of every day next to you, you blue idiot.”   
“Do you mean...you’re blue without me?”  
For the first time since the previous night, Tyler cracked a smile, his body falling back into the rhythm of being with his lover. He pressed a minute kiss to the palm of Ethan’s right hand, then to his wrist, above the bandages, then to the tip of his nose. Ethan snorted, momentarily forgetting his guilt. However, it came crashing back down like an avalanche when Tyler held his wrist, his fingers smoothing the bandage covering Ethan’s mistakes. “Ethan, you can’t do this. Not to me, not to yourself. Mark would kill me if I let something happen to you.” Ethan blinked slowly, trying to fit together puzzle pieces of his own catastrophe. “Did he call you?”  
Tyler nodded. “Shit, Mark is such a fucking…” Ethan stopped himself. “He saved my life.” The older man hummed his assent, eyes set on Ethan’s vital signs monitor. “I’m just glad you’re alive,” Tyler breathed out, barely audible over the hum of mechanical caretakers. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” For hours, Tyler stood by Ethan’s bed as he is cared for by doctors, saying few words but keeping Ethan company and assuring him that no one is angry with him. 

Tyler slept in the hospital chair for several more nights until Ethan was cleared to depart hospital care. Doctors insisted that Tyler went home, but he stubbornly informed them that Ethan was home for him. It was 11:14 when Ethan was finally released, and Tyler took him to his favourite restaurant, never once losing sight of the blue boy. Ethan was uncharacteristically quiet for days on end, but Tyler understood the profound difficulty of living past attempted death. The two of them spent every second together, Tyler slowly rebuilding his boyfriend and holding him together with strong arms and stronger love. It was months before Ethan began to make videos again, but when he did, he received multitudes of love and support from fans and friends. The dull ache of suicidality never fades, indeed, it remained embedded in Ethan’s wrists even after the threads of the stitches dissolved. It remained planted in Tyler’s cerebral depths, where it bloomed in crimson dissonance, kept at bay only by the love Tyler and Ethan shared. Tyler still had nightmares about losing Ethan, but he would always wake up by the side of his cerulean angel.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, it's the author. I'm very sorry for this. If you didn't hate it, let me know. Thanks for suffering with me.


End file.
